Obviously now I’m the bitch because I complain about her posting the posts I made, stuff I looked for, I really need to grow up.
Why I Still Have My Platform Flip Flops (Circa 2005)
It was the year 2005. Spring Break 2005 to be exact. I was a sophomore in high school, a newly turned 16 year old. I was in sunny Florida whooping it with my gal pals downing tequila shots and passing out in La Quinta hallways. Only not. I was actually on vacay with my family in Orlando visiting Disney World. But tomato/potato. I found these gorg hot pink Corona labeled flip flips in a gift shop near La Quinta. OH the orange hibiscus flower on it! OH the pink glitter straps! Oh they were 3 inches high! Oh they were so chic and all the rage…
…In 2005. I often wonder if the early to mid 2000’s were some of the worst times for fashion. Laguna Beach comes to mind. Lauren Conrad with her flare jeans, dark roots and laced tank tops come to mind. Knee length, striped, flowy skirts also pop in my head. Abercrombie, Hollister, AE or “California Cool” flashes before my eyes. I remember after getting paid my baby sitting money, my mother would drop me off at Fair Oaks Mall (alone) and I would splurge (20 dollars) on a fitted tee from Hollister excited to show off this awesome tee to the kids at school that never accepted me. I wasn’t a loser. I wasn’t bullied. I had friends. I was just a pathetic wannabe who denied wanting to be popular but was secretly scheming at night what I could do to become Chantilly High’s new IT girl.
I don’t hate my teen years. I was awkward. Who wasn’t? (Um that bitch Jessica Layman wasn’t. She was born to never ever be awkward in her life) I liked being a teenager and miss it. The simplicity of it all. Fantasying what life would be like as an adult. All the cool shit you’ll get to do. I wouldn’t call it magically however or wonderful either. I was awkward after all and clueless.
I still have those ugly ass platform flip flops that I ended up only wearing once (not counting the ironic times I’ve worn them now) because they were so damn uncomfortable. No one complimented me on them as I recall. But I have them sitting my closet much to my boyfriend’s dismay.
I’m 24 now, so I’m transcending.
I’m going from a teen to a young adult to a mid twenties lady to when I turn 30 where I’ll just be an “adult”.
TRANSCEND. I NEED TO TRANSCEND. As do many people I see walking around this universe.
Sketchers on a woman of 20 something? Girl, transcend.
Ed Hardy Hat? Douche bag, transcend.
Floral leggings? Mother, transcend.
311 concert tee? Jackie, transcend.
Keep the shit, just stop wearing it around unironically.
*I am totes wearing an Abercrombie shirt right now
NaNoWriMo - 1321 Words So Far
Come down here, he had said. And I had listened. I was stuck. I felt the top of the ceiling with the palm of my right hand. It wasn’t too difficult - I couldn’t even extend my arm all the way before the cramped space finished. I explored the ceiling with my digits for a bit before I sunk my hands into it. The mud started to come apart and crumble over me. It was cold and wet. I moved back, a little bit. Not even one actual step. A drop of water fell on my cheek and slid down my sweaty skin. I brought the mud closer to my face and sniffed it gingerly. There was something about it. A hint of something putrid that I could just not make out. I closed my eyes tightly and opened them again, but they didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It was still as pitch black as when I had climbed down the ladder into the hole. I reached for the matches in my purse. My hands clamped on my wasted. I turned to look - but I could not see anything. I felt on my sides, but the bag was not there. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, which was quickening now. “Shit, shit, shit.” I patted my sides desperately again. I got on my knees and felt around my sides. I counted, slowly, trying to keep a steady rhythm.
Concentrate, I told myself, it must be around hear somewhere. You must have dropped it, I heard myself saying. I slowly got up, careful not to hit my head, and tried to retrace my steps. I tried to avoid another fall to add to the count and navigated the grounds with as much care as I could manage to. The dread of not finding my bag - the implications of it - suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt myself run out of breath. I put my hands over my knees and let out a sight that had been pressing against my chest for days. It seemed to provide a small relief. Enough to allow me to continue on my way. I was about to take a step when I heard a small voice behind me - behind me?! - Someone had simply said one small, even friendly, word. Hello, he said, hello. My eyes widened and I waited.